Beautiful Mind
by MsCookieBits
Summary: My disorder is a death-defying, spiral drop; my reasoning snaps and I'm out of control. But he steps in and catches me before I shatter to the ground. Now, everything in my world is changing, there's warmth and stability. I thank him for that. I find myself holding him closer to my mind, body, and my heart. ShadAmy. Quick-fic. AU
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: All characters belong the SEGA_**

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**_Chapter 1_**

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**_Amy's P.O.V._**

_Peanut butter cookies need a cup of sugar and a cup of natural peanut butter. _

I quiver in my shoes and my mouth is parched, nervous beyond comprehension. Short, panting breathes are coming out of my mouth making me feel light-headed and woozy. I can't mess this up, it's my only chance.

I finally let go of the steering wheel; my hands raw from clenching its leather bars, and I and turn off the ignition. My hand touches the door handle, but I bring my arms back to the steering wheel, fold and criss-cross, and bury my face in them. I stay in the car a few minutes more, debating if I should stay or go. I chew on my lips till they bleed and angrily mumble to myself:

"Just go, you can do this."

I try again and grasp the handle of the car door. My legs are wobbly when I step out, my stomach clenched in a hard knot. I slip on my bag containing my office supplies and hold my manilla folders tight to my chest and give myself a moment to breathe, to calm my nerves.

Just break it down, one at a time, and reassess the situation. I recite the ingredients to peanut butter cookies in my head again.

_Coarse sea salt, one teaspoon of vanilla extract, and an egg. _

_Remember the egg has to be lightly beaten. _

I'm unaware of the environment around me and I snap out of my trance when I hear incessant, blaring noise coming from behind me. I turn to the commotion with a scowl plastered on my face.

It's a car horn.

I blink my eyes to a scene where I'm standing in the middle of the parking lot, clutching my applications for dear life.

How long have I been standing here?

Moving out of his way, I shoot the driver an apologetic look and he flicks me off before driving away. I try to reset my brain and hurry over to the sidewalk. The air is cooling over my skin like a shadow and I stretch my neck up high to see the building looming over me.

G.U.N. Headquarters.

I take a step back—feeling the bile and panic rising up my throat, and when I try to swallow it down I hear footsteps coming from behind me.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Am I alright?

I turn to see a gorgeous woman—short-cropped hair, fair complexion, bewitching eyes, and maybe around her late twenties or early thirties, inspecting me up and down with concern. Her marine eyes are hesitant while I gawk and stammer. Her appearance distracted me for a bit so I was able to think again.

"U-u-um yes, I-I'm okay," My tongue seizes.

"You look like you're spooked; you're white as a ghost." Her voice is sensual and alluring, but toned with sensitivity. I all but lose my focus, re-thinking and re-comprehending.

"I'll b-be okay—" I start, but she interrupts me.

"Would you like me to walk you inside?" Unexpectedly, she touches my arm and I start to scream hysterics in my mind. I swallow hard and cringe away from her unwanted touch.

"That isn't necessary," I mumble as nicely as I can. She nods like she understands but opens the front doors for me anyway.

Nothing is too glamorous about the entrance office. It has a woody smell and a professional, working aura that I could easily get accustomed to.

Everywhere I look I see neutral colors. Mostly grey.

Grey.

Grey.

Grey.

And more grey.

This is just what I need. A mundane, methodical job, everything is in order and everything is in place. I sigh reassuringly. Maybe this will work after all.

As I walk to the receptionist desk, I'm startled when the pretty-lady-who-open-doors hover over my head, literally _hovering _and _flapping_, and the membranes of her wings are sleek and toned.

"I'm Rouge by the way, Rouge the Bat."

I smile; lips chapped and cracked so they sting in the process. But it's a good kind of sting, comforting even. It reminds me that I'm actually here in reality, not in a diluted-induced dream.

She stares at me expectantly and slowly raises her eyebrows in confusion—like she's waiting for me to answer to something.

"Rouge? That's a strange name. I never actually heard a name like that before," I hear myself mumble in response. "Well it's not your fault; your mother gave you that name. Maybe it's an old-fashioned name, could've been used more frequently back in older years," I muse.

Shock paints her face and her eyes are blank; my response was obviously not what she was expecting. I remember what Vanilla told me in therapy.

"_Wait before answering. Focus and concentrate. What was the question? Does your response fit into the theme of the discussion?"_

But that's the problem, a question wasn't asked. So now what am I supposed to do?

Crap, crap, abort, abort.

The silent, awkward air hangs heavy over us. What the hell am I supposed to say back to her? I chew on my lips some more, then I shuffle the folders in my arms and look down at my feet, my ears are ringing and I'm trying to hold back the tears of frustration from leaking out.

"You could tell me what your name is?" She says. I jerk my head back up and she looks apologetic.

"My name is Amy Rose."

"Ok then Amy, is this your first day on the job?"

I quickly nod, I don't want to mess anything up anymore.

"Ah well, if you're working for a secretary-like position you'll just be sitting in your cubicle every day. I've been there and let me tell you Sweetie, it's a boring job."

"I like boring."

She hums. "So what floor are you working on? Can I see your designation document? I can show you the way."

"Um, sure, okay," I stammer. I check the order of my documents a few times before I hand her the one she asked for.

She scans over it and then, out of the blue, begins to chuckle.

"Ouch, looks like you're stuck with Shadow," She has an amused look on her face. "I'll pray for you, Sweetie."

Pray for me? Why would she do that? We barely know each other. She doesn't look much of a religious type. And why does she keep calling me "Sweetie"?

"Shadow is one of my teammates in my field work. He's a hard ass and you're working on his management floor. So basically, he's your boss. I honestly don't think he'll take kindly to someone like you."

_Someone like me. _

Absorbing what Rouge is telling me, I shudder and I want to throw my things down and go rock in the corner I've been eyeing. It's plausible. I might end up doing that in the long run anyway. The corner is the only safe, welcoming spot I can think of.

I'm afraid. And it says on my designation document that I have to check in with my boss before I start working.

That means I'll have to talk to him. There's no other choice.

My entire body is tense and I begin to bite my lips again.

"Hey, but look, it's not that bad," She says reassuringly. "I'll help you out, okay?"

I close my eyes for a moment and tried to comprehend the perspective and find the outcomes. I could quit the job, but then how would I make the money to pay rent, or gas for my car, or supply myself with food to eat?

But if I stay, I'll get a decent amount of money, but what if I breakdown at this new job too? I'll have to go back living with Vanilla and Cream; I most certainly don't want that.

Should I risk everything?

Crap, crap, abort, abort.

"C'mon Amy, don't stress about it. He'll get used to you."

...Does Rouge have some type of psychic mind-reading abilities? Or am I just so damn readable that's its written all over my face?

I glance back at her. "Are you ready?" She gestures to the elevator and her feet falls to the floor when she finally stops flapping.

I quickly shake my head yes, but my mind says no— if put in a situation like this, when I was younger, I would be throwing a tantrum and screaming in a mania at the top of my lungs. In all honesty, it doesn't feel that long ago.

Gnawing on my lip in the elevator with Rouge, I feel my stomach bubbling, my brain is fuzzy, and my vision is going white.

I can't lose it.

Not here.

Not now.

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_**A/N: I'm really excited about this one. It's a quick-fic; short chapters. There is a chance for future limes/lemons but I'm not sure as of now. **_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: All characters belong to SEGA**_

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_**Chapter 2**_

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"Here's your stop, Amy," Rouge announces, straightening the buttons on her shirt and fixing the straps on her heels. I release a breath I didn't realize I as holding and there is a quick jolt in my nerves that surprises me when the elevator bings, bringing us to the 7th floor.

Damn I _hate_ elevators.

I gulp down the spit accumulating in my mouth and nervously run my fingers through my scraggly bangs.

Should I leave my hair down, or put it in a bun? I have to keep appearances don't I? Maybe a bun would look more professional. Or should I get a haircut?

"Your hair is fine, just be natural," Rouge tells me.

I hear myself ask, "Are you a mind reader? You always seem to know what I'm thinking about."

She pauses before answering, "You could say I'm just really perceptive." She gives me a smirk that I find mysterious and I can't comprehend the meaning behind it.

I nod but still do not completely understand.

Stepping out of the elevator, Rouge leads the way to Shadow's office while I follow suit. She turns her head to me, glancing behind her shoulder, and says, "Okay Sweetie here's a tip for you," Rouge begins and I listen attentively. "Shadow's not so hard on newcomers, so he'll cut you some slack for the first couple of weeks. But don't expect him to give you a freebie every time you mess up after that."

Her head rounds back in front of her while I gulp and nod.

"And here's another thing-"

Then my mind drifts, everything is floating in a thick fog and I block out the rest of Rouge's sentence.

_What if everything goes wrong with my interview? _

With every breath and step I take, my body seizes and trembles in anxiety. I try to listen to Rouge's advice but my brain is shutting down a-and I can't hear _anything_. I close my eyes, take a few more long breaths and try to wipe my mind of the scattered, fuzzy dots disorienting my focus.

But of course, it doesn't really work.

While Rouge rambles on, to calm myself, I take the chance to look around office, familiarizing myself each cubicle, worker, pencil, file cabinet, computer, and window. It feels like a standard office, all materials and supplies in place. Except for one thing...

"-Rouge, is there a restroom on this floor?"

She stops in mid-sentence, "Um, yeah it's just past that copy machine over there." She points to where the copy machine is and I can see the doors to the facilities behind it.

"Can I use it?"

"_Yes,_" She says, raising a delicate eyebrow. "Sweetie, you don't have to ask to go to the bathroom," Rouge replies with a small smile itching at her dimpled cheek.

She looks down at her wristwatch and she shots up in the air, wings flapping maddeningly. "Oh _shit_, I have to go before I'm late, but Shadow's office is right next to that cubicle," She waves a hand dismissively to the empty working office, and I spot the doors to his office across from it, but I shiver in intimidation.

She glides over my head and to the elevator, jamming the buttons to go to the floors below. But before entering, she flashes me a wink, and the doors close with her inside.

I raise my eyebrows in confusion.

_What was that for?_

Looking around, I suspect that none of the workers took much notice to me, although there aren't many people on this floor anyway.

And thank goodness for that.

I slink away from the passing glances of my future associates and I hurry to the restrooms. When I open the women's restroom, it is dim and quiet with a type of floral aroma wafting and swirling around the air. But its a strange odor, the smell makes my nose feel fuzzy.

I take a quick peek under all four stalls, searching for a trace of feet. I find none.

I blow out a gust of pressured air in my lungs, entering a stall. I don't have to use the restroom, but I can take this time to recollect my thoughts now that I'm in a quiet environment.

A safe, stable environment.

I sit on the toilet seat for a few minutes longer than necessary, deliberately sucking in the artificial, stale air to clear out the clawing anxieties clouding my mind, disrupting my focus.

_C'mon, you can do this! Just say a few words to him and you'll be on your way! _

Absorbing a sense determination, I ball my fingers into my fists resting on my thighs and nod in confidence as it wells up inside of me. I stride out the bathroom with my eyes squeezed shut, blocking out all my other senses and focusing on the task at hand. It feels like I'm floating out of myself on cloud nine; feet carrying me through the cubicles, and to Shadow's office with my head held high.

I clench my fingers even tighter, nails digging harsh in my hands, almost to the point where I can feel tiny droplets of crimson accumulating in the crevices of my palms. I can do this. I know I can.

But when I approach the closed office doors, a wave of nausea course through my body, but I push down the dizziness.

Should I knock first? What if he's not there?

Without control of my body, I feel my hand raise up and timidly knock on the wooden surface of the doors. I'm rewarded with a gruff voice on the other end.

"Yes, come in."

Trembling in my shoes and gnawing at my lips, I grasp the door handle and step inside.

As I close the door behind me, I soak in the visual of the room. Shadow's office isn't what I expected; surprisingly, its generic and organized, much like how I would have kept an office if I owned one. There's file cabinets lined against a wall and a large window behind his desk, overlooking the lower floors of G.U.N. Headquarters. The room shares the same scent as the one on the bottom floor where the receptionist desk is. And the carpet is grey.

Grey.

Grey.

Grey.

And more grey.

My eyes scan Shadow last, my eyebrows raise in astonishment and I suck a quick intake of breath at what I see. He's a hedgehog, like me, but heart-achingly handsome; I'm awestruck by his pulsing red eyes, masculine body, and the bronze his muzzle. My breaths come out in short, shallow gasps, so I practice taking in little gulps of air to flush out my parched arousal.

Is it hot in here or is it just _that_ guy?

He's leaning over his desk, peering down at the documents in front of him, and he hasn't uttered a word of acknowledgement since I entered the room. I hesitate to approach him. I shuffle a bit, unsure of what to do or what to say. Biting my lips, I clear my throat to get his attention.

His forked ears perked up, without moving his eyes from the papers he responds impatiently, "What is it?"

"U-u-um, I-I," I babble. I clamp my mouth shut, worrying my lips. I just can't get my words out.

_Don't screw this up!_

Finally, he looks up from the documents and runs his eyes up and down my body with a gaze I can't decipher. Curiosity, maybe?

"And who are you?" My thighs quiver in fear and my toes curl in my shoes, his voice could rattle the ozone layer.

"I-I'm Amy Rose, I applied here and my f-first day is today. A worker told me that I had to check in with you b-before I begin working so I can acquire my assignments."

"Ah, Ms. Rose, I've expected you." He stands from his chair and walks toward me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I gulp down a crumb of nervousness with each step he takes, coming closer, and closer, and _closer_. He's so tall, his neck hunkered down and my neck craning up, I feel over powered and feeble. He reaches out for a handshake and I take it, trying to ignore his strong grasp and the warmth of his palm.

"I'm Shadow the Hedgehog." He responds.

I smile a bit and I feel my cheeks flush, I'm intimately aware of the growing heat that hum in the heart of our connecting palms.

I'm the first to let go, interlocking my hands together behind my back. He passes in front of me and coax me to follow him, "Come with me, I'll show you where you will be working for the time being."

I practically preen in my head, this is going better than I expected, a lot better.

Maybe there's hope for me after all.

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**A/N: I apologize for the long update. I will definitely try to get these chapters out to you quicker. Thank you for putting up with me :) Expect the next chapter of Impaired to be released next, but I can't make any promises for _when _it will be updated. **


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